


Zamzoom!

by mozbee



Series: Zamzoom! [1]
Category: DC Extended Universe, Justice League (2017), Shazam! (2019)
Genre: Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-07 03:43:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18612421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozbee/pseuds/mozbee
Summary: “You’re fast.”Billy squawked and spun, arms raised like he was in a stick-up. His jaw dropped. “You’re—you’re—holy shit.”Superman raised an eyebrow, faintly amused.





	Zamzoom!

A thunderous crash had Billy whipping around, heart hammering in his chest. He stepped out of the crowd around the bus stop, everyone craning their necks to see down the street, to see what had happened. Billy moved through the people, and there was another crash, followed by glass shattering. The crowd shifted nervously, some people starting to hurry away.

 

Sirens in the distance wailed through the streets. Mind made up, Billy hurried into an alley, ducking behind a dumpster. "Shazam!" He flew out, soaring over the buildings, and immediately saw the source of the noise. A rooftop crane lay overturned on the road, cars crushed beneath it. Enormous steel girders were scattered on the street.

 

Billy sped over, thinking of the crane operator, hoping it had been unmanned at the time. He landed beside the crane, boots crunching over shattered glass, and ripped the door off the cab. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was empty.

 

"Look out!" A scream jolted him up, and he spun to see a woman, blood on her face, pointing up. He followed her finger and took off, heading for the girders that were haphazardly balanced along the roof of the building the crane had fallen from. He drew level with the roof as the first girder fell and he dove after it, people on the street scattering, slipping on broken glass and debris. Billy caught one end of the girder and pulled back, his hands slipping.

 

It banged against the road, and the vibration shook itself up his arms, but he had slowed it enough for everyone to get out of the way, steered it so it wouldn't fall on the crane and break chunks of metal off to fly into the street. He heaved a sigh of relief, dropping his end of the girder, then his heart dropped, senses screaming at him.

 

He turned and looked up.

 

"Oh shit—" he blasted up, even though he didn't know how he was going to catch every single girder that was about to plummet towards him. The first one smacked into his arms and he dropped slightly with the weight. He shifted it in his arms, staring up at the rest of the girders, balancing precariously on the edge of the roof. “Please stay, please stay, please stay,” he muttered, hovering halfway between the sky and earth. They wobbled, but held. He breathed a sigh of relief, when a bird flew overhead, circling and coming in for a landing. “Oh, don’t you dare,” he hissed, eyes narrowing at the bird. It ignored him, and landed on the end of a girder. With a screech, the remaining steel fell, all at once, at least a dozen girders dropping towards him.

 

The bird flew off with an indignant squawk.

 

 Billy’s eyes flashed to the cavernous building in front of him, wide open floors planting an idea in his head. He backed up, and, muscles bulging, bent the girder into a rough ‘U’. He made it without a second to spare, catching the falling girders in his bent one and flinging them forwards. They crashed through the unfinished building, slamming through support pillars but blessedly stopping in the middle of the floor.

 

“Yes!” Billy cheered. He tried to pump his arms above his head but they were rubbery. He hovered in the air, watching the fire trucks and ambulances congregate on the scene. He grimaced at the damage to the building but hey, it was already under construction so now it was just…more? He heard a screech and looked up to see the damn bird soaring high above him, and he narrowed his eyes and took off after it, only half-acknowledging the ridiculousness of chasing after a bird.

 

He rose steadily above the city, cursing when a flock of starlings got between him and his prey and he lost sight of it. He stopped, hovering in mid-air, scanning the horizon.

 

“You’re fast.”

 

Billy squawked and spun, arms raised like he was in a stick-up. His jaw dropped. “You’re—you’re—holy _shit_.”

 

Superman raised an eyebrow, faintly amused. “I have been mistaken for a god before, but not for fecal matter.” Billy dropped his arms, heart thrumming. He was _here_ , in the superpowered flesh, Superman—

 

“You’d be the best shit,” he blurted. _Oh my god_ what— “If you were shit. Like, gold with ruby kernels of—” he slapped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry,” he squeaked. Superman (!!) hovered closer and stuck a hand out. Billy flinched, squeezing his eyes shut, ready to be blasted out of the sky. After several moments of nothing happening, he cracked one eye open. Superman was frowning, looking confused, his hand still stretched out.

 

“I wanted to introduce myself,” he said. “I’ve been following your exploits and thought we should get acquainted.”

 

Billy gave him a sheepish grin. “I thought you were going to—” he waved his hands in the air between them. Superman cocked his head to the side.

 

“What does—” he copied Billy’s gesture— “mean?”

 

Billy bit back a threatening laugh at seeing the Man of Steel himself flipflopping his hands around. “Like, super kill something.”

 

Superman shook his head. “I have a strong moral code imbued in years of ethics, both self-learned and otherwise, on the matter of killing,” he said, his voice strong. “I also would not ‘super kill’ something,” he added.

 

“Cool,” Billy nodded. “Cause you’re like, the strongest person alive and I feel like you wouldn’t even have to try to super kill someone, it’d be more like _hey let me help you up from where you fell oh damn you’re dead_ wow,” he cut himself off. “I need to—” he mimed zipping his lips.

 

Superman just stared at him.

 

And stared some more.

 

“You have laser eyes, right?” Billy asked nervously, hovering a bit to the left, out of the immediate line of fire.

 

“I am Kal-El,” Superman said, wisely choosing to ignore Billy. “Though you know me as Superman.” He didn’t try to shake Billy’s hand this time. “What can I call you?”

 

“I am Captain Sparklefingers,” Billy thrust his chest out proudly. The wind picked up and billowed his cape out behind him, and the lightning bolt on his chest thrummed with magical energy. Superman narrowed his eyes and blasted Billy’s head off with one shot of red energy from his eyes.

 

“Are you all right?”

 

Billy snapped out of his horrific daydream, realizing he had been staring slack-jawed at Superman. “Uh—” he couldn’t think of any of the names Freddy had tossed around, couldn’t even remember his own non-superhero name at the moment. “Shaz—” he looked down to the city spread out a mile below him and cut off with a choke. “It’s like Shazoom, but -zam instead,” he finished, face flushing. Superman was smart, right, he would figure it out—

 

“Your name is Zamzoom?”

 

Billy let out an insane giggle before realizing he was serious. “Yes!” he nearly shouted. _No!_ he screamed internally. _What are you_ doing _, you doorknob—_

Superman floated closer, a genuine smile on his face. “It is an honour to meet you, Zamzoom.” They shook hands, and Billy’s heart died a little.

 

_I am never washing this hand again._

Superman considered him for a moment. “Do you have time right now? There are some people I would like you to meet.”

 

“Pfft, sure, yeah, ‘course I do,” Billy waved away any doubt, acting like he didn’t have an overprotective foster mother waiting for him at home. Superman turned, jerking his head for Billy to follow him. They flew alongside each other in silence for a minute, Billy fighting to keep the enormous grin off his face that tried to break through and make him look deranged.

 

“So,” Superman said, deep voice cutting through the quiet, “what planet are you from?”

-

-

-

They slowed over a sprawling manor, surrounded by a deep forest, on the outskirts of a bright city that Billy didn’t know the name of. While they’d been flying, Superman had insisted Billy cover his eyes with his cape for part of the way.

 

_“To guard the location of our—”_

_“Your lair?” Billy had asked excitedly. “Dude, I_ totally _get it, I kind of have a lair of my own, wow why does my cape smell like mayonnaise?”_

They landed on the enormous back lawn of the manor. A wide set of doors opened, and out came—

 

“No frigging way,” Billy breathed. Batman strode out towards him, black cape flowing behind him, and Billy was willing to bet _his_ cape didn’t smell like mayonnaise. Suddenly a man in a red suit appeared next to Billy, a broad grin under his cowl stretching his face.

 

“Lightning bro chest bump!” he crowed, and blurred, and suddenly Billy was flying back, his chest throbbing from an unseen impact. He wind-milled his arms, mind spinning as he went from standing to flying across the lawn in less than a second, when he was suddenly caught and set on his feet. The guy in the suit stood in front of him, still grinning. “Race you back!” and he was gone again, and then suddenly waving from where he stood next to Superman and Batman. “Come on, dude!” he hollered from across the lawn.

 

Billy stepped forward and _ran_ , grass kicking up around his heels as he screeched to a stop in front of the gathered heroes. “You’re the Flash!” Billy grinned. “Dude, that was epic, how did I never realize before that you have a lightning bolt on your suit too—” he stopped and they grinned at each other.

 

“That’s disturbing,” Batman spoke for the first time, looking between the two of them. “They have the same mouth.” Superman shrugged. Billy turned to him, beaming.

 

“Mr. Wayne, I have to be honest, you are like the _coolest_ human on earth. No offense,” he said to the Flash, missing his dropped jaw, “I don’t even know if you’re human, but I mean,” he turned back to Batman, oblivious to the stony silence, “you’re _Batman_.”

 

Batman turned on Superman, hands clenched at his sides. “You told him?” Superman looked bewildered, staring at Billy like he’d never seen him before.

 

“No,” he said to Batman. “Zamzoom, how did you know—” The Flash burst out laughing and blurred from sight, reappearing on Superman’s other side.

 

“Zamzoom?” he cried. He knocked on the side of Superman’s head. “Pretty sure his name is _Shazam_.” He looked at Billy. “Right?”

 

“Nope!” Billy said quickly, seeing the look on Superman’s face. “It’s…Zamzoom. Always has been.” Like he was going to embarrass Superman in front of his own friends. The Flash was at Billy’s side in an instant.

 

“Well then my sources were wrong,” he said, and stuck out a hand. “I’m Barry.”

 

“ _Barry_ ,” Batman hissed, crossing his arms. “You just trust him, just like that?” The Flash— no, _Barry_ —shrugged, unperturbed.

 

“He already knows who you are. He may as well know me.” He cocked his head at Billy, eyes bright beneath his cowl. “How _did_ you know who Bruce is, by the way?”

 

 _“It’s only the most obvious thing in the history of anything,” Freddy said, stuffing a handful of popcorn in his mouth. “I mean, who else can afford all of the bat-themed vehicles, weapons, and accessories that he has? Not to mention that Wayne Manor has blown up like, ten times because it always just_ happens _to be where Gotham City villains congregate when they’re on a rampage?”_

“Freddy said,” Billy shrugged. “He kind of knows a lot about superheroes and that stuff, he actually has a replica bata—”

 

“Who is Freddy?” Batman growled. Billy gulped. Barry knocked against Batman’s side and popped back over to sling an arm around Billy.

 

“Aw, never mind that, let’s go inside, I’m starving!” There was a tight grip on Billy’s upper arm, a hand on his back, and suddenly he was stumbling to a stop in a vast kitchen. The cupboards rattled, the fridge opened and shut seemingly of its own accord, and Barry stood in front of the kitchen island, sandwich fixings spread out before him. He waved Billy over. “You like subs?”

 

“Yes,” Billy said, taking a minute to look around the kitchen. Low voices came from the back door, and he strained his ears to listen.

 

“—don’t you take off the suit, then? If he already knows,” Superman trailed off.

 

“…I haven’t picked up my dry cleaning yet,” came a sullen reply. There was a noise of understanding then Billy was jerked to stand at the island.

 

“Eat up, mi amigo!” Barry said, waving a hand over the spread of sandwich toppings. He pointed at a bowl of what Billy thought was guacamole. “That stuff is like, eighty bucks a jar, so use a _lot_ of it,” he hissed, nudging Billy in the ribs. He looked up when Batman and Superman walked in. “Dibs on the couch!” he yelled, and was gone, a bowl of lettuce toppling over in his wake.

 

Billy was left to stare at Superman and Batman. Wearing a cape that inexplicably smelled like mayonnaise. Batman huffed suddenly and reached up to tug his mask off. Billy was face-to-face with renowned billionaire Bruce Wayne, and he floundered. “Is that guacamole really eighty dollars a jar?”

 

Superman snorted, quickly coughing to cover it. Bruce levelled a steady stare at Billy. His hair ruffled slightly as the fridge was tugged open and slammed shut. “Took the last ginger ale!” Barry yelled from the other room.

 

“Hey,” Superman said indignantly, “that’s mine.” He strode from the room. There was a muttered conversation from the other room, then Barry laughed but cut off when a dull thud could be heard. A pop can hissed open and Superman walked past the kitchen, drinking deeply. He paused and said to Billy, “I have something for you. Wait here,” he added when Billy made to move to go with him.

 

Billy’s eyes darted at Bruce, still stony-faced. “Please no,” he whispered but Superman was already gone. The silence stretched on, Billy tapping his fingers nervously on the lightning bolt on his chest. He cast about for something to say, anything that might make Bruce ‘I’m Batman’ Wayne stop looking at him like that. He brightened when he saw the high-end smoothie maker tucked away on the counter. It was the same one Rosa moaned over whenever she saw a commercial for it on tv, jabbing her straw angrily into the _peasant smoothie she was stuck drinking that didn’t have a built-in smart nutrition centre._ “Is that the NutriBullet?” Billy asked, pointing. He shrieked when a bolt of lightning burst from his finger and just _demolished_ the blender. He turned wide eyes on Bruce.

 

When Superman came back into the kitchen, he stopped and stared. “Why is he wearing oven mitts?” he asked Bruce, eyeing the bat patterned oven mitts on Billy’s hands.

 

“Ask my blender,” Bruce bit out.

-

-

-

“See you around, Zamzoom,” Barry saluted him as they stood on the lawn. He grinned. “Farewell chest bump?”

 

“ _No_ ,” Bruce glowered at them both. Barry shrugged.

 

“I’ll look you up next time I’m in Philly.”

 

Billy grinned. “That’d be great.”

 

Superman stepped forward and held something out in a closed fist. “I want you to take this,” he said to Billy. “You can use it to get in touch with me if you ever need anything. I think it’s important for us to facilitate a strong relationship.” He dropped something small into Billy’s hand. It bounced off the oven mitts Billy still wore.

 

“Oh,” Billy hurried to pull them off but stopped at the look from Bruce. “Um—”

 

Superman bent to pick it up, and Billy’s heart beat excitedly. Was it some form of alien communication device? A stone that could teleport him miles in an instant? He pressed his hands together so he wouldn’t drop it again, and Superman placed it carefully on his palm. Billy stared at a small black…thing. He looked up at the other man, who smiled at him. Barry leaned in.

 

“Dude,” he said, raising his brows incredulously at Superman, “is that a _pager_?”

 

Superman nodded. “It’s a device used to send encrypted messages between two people. Very secure,” he assured Billy. “Excellent coverage as well, you’ll be able to use it anywhere.” He held another up. “My information is programmed into yours.”

 

“I think this is the oldest thing I’ve ever touched in my entire life,” Billy said. He’d heard of pagers, in old movies. Superman smiled at him, and gently slid the pager into the top of the oven mitt on Billy’s left hand. He felt it rattle around beside his fingers.

 

“You’re welcome,” he said to Billy, and was so sincere that Billy felt bad for thinking of it as a joke.

 

“I’ll…use it well?” he asked, glancing at Barry who was jogging on the spot, legs a blur.

 

“Stay safe, Zamzoom,” Superman said, taking a step back. “If you ever need help, and I can provide it, I will,” he swore.

 

“Thanks,” Billy said. He nodded at Barry, and steeled himself to big adieu to Bruce Wayne without pissing him off. “Than—hey!” Bruce was already walking back up to the house. “Well,” Billy said awkwardly, “I should probably leave these—” he moved to tug the oven mitts off.

 

“Not until you’re out of my airspace!” Bruce called over his shoulder without looking. Billy gulped.

 

“I’ll just…yeah,” he said, and turned and shot off into the night sky, head reeling with everything the last hour had brought.

 

Clark and Barry watched him go, and caught up to Bruce who stood in the doors to his house. He stared at Clark. “You know his name is Shazam,” he said to him.

 

Clark threw his head back and laughed.

-

-

-

Freddy pushed his way out of the comic book store, pleased with his latest purchases. “Hey Freddy!” a group of girls walking into the coffee shop next door called as they passed. Freddy grinned and waved. His newfound popularity ever since Billy’s stunt in the cafeteria last week was definitely something he could get used to. He hurried along the street, making for the side street behind the comic store so he could Shazamify himself and get home quicker. He turned down the quiet street and chose an old, towering oak to hide under. He glanced around.

 

“Freddy Freeman,” a voice growled.

 

Freddy shrieked and jumped, whirling around. There was no one behind him. No one behind the tree. He turned in a slow circle. Something heavy landed next to him. He saw black out of the corner of his eye, and turned his head to trail his eyes up a towering tower of black. His jaw dropped. “ _No fucking way._ ”

 

Batman stared down at him, a bright green leaf plastered to the side of his infamous cowl. “That’s quite a potty mouth for someone so young.”

 

“Fuck off, I’m fiftee—” Freddy gasped in horror. “I-I didn’t mean that, Mr. Batman sir, it’s just a reflex—” his mouth snapped shut when a gloved palm was raised.

 

“Do you know who I am?”

 

Freddy nodded vigourously. “Yes, you’re Batman, the hero of Gotham City, the caped crusader, the reason I’m about to shi—”

 

“No,” Batman said, bending down so his face was right in Freddy’s, dark eyes glittering beneath his mask. “I mean, do you know who I _am_?”

 

“You mean Bruce Wayne?” Freddy whispered, palms sweating. He winced when Batman cursed and drew back.

 

“I can’t believe it—” he cut off and narrowed his eyes at Freddy. “How long have you known? Be honest,” he added warningly. Freddy swallowed hard, mouth dry.

 

“Um, like five years, back when Wayne Manor burned down when—”

 

“And who have you told?” he hissed, leaning in again.

 

“J-just my brother!” Freddy cried. “I won’t tell anyone else, I swear.” Batman considered him, head cocked to the side. The leaf clung tightly to the side of his head.

 

“Who’s your brother?”

 

“His name is Billy, and he’s a good person, he knows how to keep a secret—” _or six_ — “I promise.”

 

“Hmm,” Batman said. He nodded. “Superman said I could trust you, and I’m inclined to agree with him.”

 

“S-superman?” Freddy asked faintly. “Superman remembers my name?”

 

“But know this, Freddy Freeman,” Batman said, his mouth a firm line, “if anyone ever reveals my identity, it will be you I’m coming to find.”

 

Freddy nodded rapidly, eyes wide. “Sure, of course, and I’ll totally help you get revenge on them or whatever, like we can totally team up and—” he punched the air for emphasis— “bring them to justice.” He was met with a blank stare. “Oh, you meant like, like if it happened you would assume I told someone and come _find me_ find me.” He gulped. “I’m sorry, I’m like totally clueless at reading threats.”

 

“I didn’t threaten you,” came an almost sulky reply.

 

“You kind of did though,” Freddy muttered. He shrieked when a gleaming batarang was suddenly thrust under his nose and he shut his eyes, shoulders tense.

 

“No, I’m trying to give it to you,” Batman said, sounding exasperated. Freddy opened his eyes, staring dumbfounded up at him.

 

“Like, to keep?!” At his nod Freddy eagerly snatched it from his hand. “Ow!” he cried happily when the edge sliced his fingertip. “This is like, legit,” he whispered reverently. He turned to beam up at Batman, only to find the hero gone. Freddy looked left and right down the street. The tree rustled. “Did…” he hesitated, “did you go back up in the tree?” No answer, but Freddy could see the tail end of a glossy black cape hanging just past a branch. “Okay, well, this is awesome and thank you and, you have a leaf stuck to the side of your head.”

 

Freddy hurried away, giddily examining his batarang. When he got home he hurried straight to his room, bursting to tell Billy _everything_. As he went up the stairs he heard Rosa call from the kitchen.

 

“Victor,” she sounded confused, “where did these oven mitts come from?”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked reading this as much as I liked writing it. I have nothing else to say about it.  
> If you liked it, tell me why. If you didn't, tell me why :))))


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